


Cook of the Sea

by xpiester333x



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 19:36:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3500372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xpiester333x/pseuds/xpiester333x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji is seven and the captain of the ship hands him a mop and bucket while complaining about how worthless cabin boys are. A belated birthday fic for my favorite cook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cook of the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> This is a belated birthday fic for Sanji's birthday! I was on a trip during his birthday but I hope this is better late than never.

Sanji is seven and the captain of the ship hands him a mop and bucket while complaining about how worthless cabin boys are. The air is frigid this pre-dawn morning and Sanji shivers as he sets about following the orders the captain had given to him between insults. His hands shake as he works the mop across the top deck of the ship, though that has nothing to do with the cold. He grits his teeth to stop them from chattering and ignores the single tear that slips down his cheek.

He is also seven the first time he’s put to work in the galley of the ship. He washes dishes and listens to the cooks as they talk about their job and their experiences on other ships. He envies them a little for their freedom and their positions, but he enjoys their stories. Especially the ones about the All Blue. They laugh and pass it off as a legend, but Sanji knows they’re wrong. He knows it’s out there.

He’s eight when a band of pirates boards the ship and he can feel the cord that connects him to his dream being tested weighed on. He’s more afraid than he has ever been in his life, and he knows his life will probably end before the sun rises. He tightens his fist around the nearest object, and is surprised to find himself holding a knife. The All Blue is real, but he can’t find it if he’s dead. He finds a knife for his other hand and swears he’ll protect his dream.

He’s also eight when he comes to on a rock in the middle of the ocean, next to man he had sworn to kill just the night before. He sits between a rain puddle and pile of food and keeps his eyes fixed on the horizon. He’s going to get off this rock and find the All Blue, and if it means having to ration his food for a few days he can do that. His stomach is grumbling already, but he knows he can make it.

Sanji is nine before they let him and the old man out of the hospital. He’s still hungry all of the time and his stomach still protests when he eats just one bite too many, but he’s alive and grateful for it.

He’s nine when the old man spends all of the gold on a ship that will function as a restaurant. He sees the look in Zeff’s eyes, the pride and the warmth, and he sees what could have been lost to the world because of one stupid sacrifice. Sanji knows in that moment that he is in debt, and that he may never be able to repay it, but he’s going to try.

He’s ten before the old man lets him into the kitchen to cook, but he’s already snuck in plenty of times to take notes. Actually cooking his own recipe is so different from watching Zeff cook, however, and for a long moment Sanji stares wide-eyed at the hot pan in front of him. He picks up his spatula in one hand and a cut of meat in the other and faces off with the stove like it’s an opponent to be defeated. He bites his lip and lowers the meat towards the pan.

He’s ten the time he burns his first meal, his own fingers, and half of Zeff’s arm— all within a few minutes. He learns that day that cooking is not an opponent he can underestimate and not one he can tackle with wits alone. He will be almost eleven before the old man lets him back into the kitchen, this time under heavy supervision. Sanji takes that time to learn more about the kitchen, and works himself up to the stove, so that the next time he attempts any cooking, he’ll be wiser and more prepared.

Sanji is twelve the first time he discovers the beauty and fragility of women. She was the daughter of a merchant Zeff went to frequently, and she was the most beautiful girl on the island, with bouncing red curls, luminous green eyes, and smile that could brighten the darkest night. Sanji probably loves her, as much as a twelve-year-old boy can love. One day he sees her in nothing but tears and a torn dress, and he helps her home for the last time. He never sees her again, but he swears he’ll protect a woman’s smile from then on, even if he’d never be able to restore hers.

When he’s sixteen, he’s old enough to travel alone and wise enough to know a good quality ingredient from a scam, so Zeff starts sending him ashore alone to pick up their stock. He’s making his rounds through the market when he hears pieces of a conversation that stops him in his tracks. Two men are talking about an ocean that no one believes in. They are laughing about the latest news, something about the Grand Line and the myths that come out of it, but Sanji’s heart races.

He cannot explain his agitation to Zeff that night, and in the end he’s sent out of the kitchen early for his distraction. That night he falls asleep in his room and dreams visions of endless blue water and a sea teeming with life. The sea of his dreams has never left his heart, though he’s buried it under duty and debt. When he wakes the next morning he will put it behind him, but for tonight he lets himself sail free.

He’s seventeen the time he and Zeff have their biggest fight. They fight about Sanji’s future, because Sanji knows where he belongs, but the old man thinks he knows better. The kitchen is smashed and a few of the dining room tables are broken in the course of their warpath, and the other cooks that are staying with them make themselves scarce for the whole ordeal. In the end, Sanji and Zeff don’t speak for a week, but Sanji gets his way. He stays.

He’s nineteen when he reaches the turning point. He’s nineteen when a pirate blows a hole in the side of their ship, and comes in to apologize for it. He meets the boy in the straw hat, the kid who tells more lies than truths, the man he swears to hate but can’t help but admire, and the woman he knows he’ll love forever. He meets the crew that crumbles the future he had set for himself and instead set him on the path towards the ocean he can’t even be sure is real, though he knows in his heart that it is.

He’s nineteen when he says goodbye to Zeff with tears in his eyes; when he frees himself from a debt he had set on himself. The sway of the dinghy beneath his feet feels different that day as he sails away from the life he’d been so sure of, and though the ocean is so familiar, it suddenly seems so different.

The year he turns twenty is spent in a place he calls hell. It’s not the same as the hell he had known as a child but the deceit on his eyes and the constant attacks makes it a close second. Every day he spends there is torture, but he can feel his body changing, growing stronger by the hour, so maybe it’s not without its benefits. When he has a quiet moment he scans the newspapers for a familiar face or name, but all is quiet. He knows that’s a good thing, but he never stops looking.

He won’t see his crew again until he’s twenty-one but when he does he’s shocked by how much they’ve grown. Usopp looks more confident in himself than he ever has before, and Chopper no longer seems afraid of people or how they perceive him. Franky has obviously put a lot of work into the mechanics of his body, if his new stature is anything to go by, and Brook is a more modern and up-to-date skeleton than the one Sanji had met on a ghost ship two years ago. Nami and Robin are even more beautiful than he remembered, and both of them seem to face the world more openly than they had before. Sanji is pissed to note that the muscle-brained marimo looks even stronger, but he’s looking forward to seeing just how much that bastard has changed. Luffy doesn’t seem any different at all, though he’d obviously been getting stronger just like the rest of them. Sanji’s glad his captain is still an idiot who eats too much and never takes anything seriously, because it’s familiar and feels like home.

Sanji is twenty-four and standing against the railing of the ship, staring out into an ocean that looks just like any other ocean, except it’s different. He can feel it.

“It’s right here, Sanji.” He hears Nami say. “The blank spot on the map. I think it’s—“

“Yeah,” Sanji cuts her off. Because she doesn’t need to say it. He knows. He just _knows._

The All Blue. The ocean Sanji has seen in his dreams a hundred— maybe even a thousand — times before. The ocean so many people doubted the existence of, but not Sanji. And not Zeff, who had risked his life to pull a little kid out of the sea and give him all the food that they had, because that kid shared the same dream he did.

Sanji can feel tears in his eyes, but he doesn’t wipe them away. They roll down his cheeks and drip from his chin, splashing into the crystal blue water below. A part of him, forever swirling in the sea of his dreams.


End file.
